


True Love

by Elle Gray (LGray)



Series: Drarry Discord Drabble Challenge Drabbles [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drarry Discord Writers Corner Drabble Challenge, Established Relationship, Flowers, M/M, Reusable cups
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 05:38:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17482238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LGray/pseuds/Elle%20Gray





	True Love

The day is sunny and it's warm despite the early hour. This has become something of a tradition for them, and there's comfort in the routine when everything is such a mess otherwise.

'I'm actually going to do some washing today, I'm running out of pants,' Draco declares with purposeful optimism. He's been putting it off for what must be weeks, without Harry nagging at him. Him and his slave-like upbringing, and their lack of a house-elf at Grimmauld had meant a steep learning curve for Draco and he's always strangely proud of himself every time he manages a household chore Harry has taught him. Even if they usually rely on elbow grease instead of magic.

Eventually the silence rankles him, and he has to speak again. 'I actually will this time, I know I said I would before,' he smirks to himself, imagining the patiently dubious look on his lover's face, one of those dark brows lifted in wry disbelief. Git. 'But before I still had several pairs left, and now I'm down to the novelty Christmas briefs your delightful ex-girlfriend gave me. You should see my arse right now, Potter, it's covered in glitter, you'd hate it.'

He takes a breath, and his throat hurts like it always does. He takes a sip of tea from his reusable cup, a gift from Luna. It's Gryffindor red with a golden yellow lid and it's so obnoxiously bright it's like he's still here, being painfully present in every corner of Draco's life, full of energy and optimism, even when things seemed so impossible. 

The cup is both a comfort and a source of incomparable pain. His eyes always catch on it, like a small fire amongst the ashes of his life. Beautiful until you get too close and think too much about what it means.

'I should change your flowers,' he says, his voice cracking. The lavender he conjured yesterday is drooping slightly in the glass vase he's been using. He never puts water in it. The flowers don't deserve what he's doing to them, but the last time he tried to keep something alive, he failed, and maybe that's a tradition of theirs too, now. 'Lilies today?' he asks the carved stone as he vanishes the lavender. 'For your mother?' But then he realises he doesn't want to watch another Potter die tomorrow. 'Daisies it is then,' he whispers.


End file.
